The Dusk of the Crimson Night
by Rebarbative
Summary: What would have happened if Darren's nightmares became reality? What if he really became the Ruler of the Crimson Night, The Lord of the Shadows?
1. Death Changes the Living

**Hi guys! I've always been fascinated by the idea of the Lord of the Shadows, so I decided to do a story about him. What would have happened if Darren's nightmares became reality? What if he really became the Ruler of the Crimson Night, The Lord of the Shadows?**

**Rated T for violence and language**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim. This disclaimer is for the whole story, because I think it would be superfluous to put it in all of my chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The Dusk of the Crimson Night

Chapter One:

"Death Changes the Living"

* * *

I put my trust in the gods of the vampires and thrust my knife forward. I brought it around and down in a savage arc, and by the luck or fate drove it into the center of Steve's chest –clean through his shriveled forgery of a heart!

Steve's eyes and mouth popped wide with shock. His expression was comical, but I was in no mood to laugh. There was no recovery from a strike like that. Steve was finished. But he could take me with him if I wasn't careful. I pulled his knife out of his right hand and threw it to the ground, where it rolled gently.

Steve's gaze slid to the handle of the knife sticking out of his chest. "Oh," he said tonelessly. Then blood trickled from the sides of his mouth. His chest heaved up and down, the handle rising and falling with it. Oh, how I longed to pull that knife out. My hand itched with the urge to shorten his life further. I obeyed the urge, despite the fact that I was giving him an open window to attack, and grasped the slippery handle and yanked. I winced when his life blood began pouring from his chest freely.

He was too shocked to use his –now free– hand to attack me. He simply sputtered and then choked on the blood caught in his throat. I pinned his hand down again and looked into his eyes. Hurt, betrayal, and hatred stared back at me. I watched as the light drained from his eyes, and at the last moment, a spark of something appeared in his eyes. Regret. He spent his last seconds staring into my eyes, remembering our childhood as his life passed in front of his.

I stood up once I was sure Steve was dead. I turned to walk away from this cruel place, but the sound of applause stopped me. I turned back around and faced Mr. Tiny. Fat red tears of joy streamed behind his glasses, dripping down his cheeks.

"What valor!" he boomed proudly. "What a never-say-die spirit! My money was always on you, Darren. It could have gone either way, but if I was a betting man, I'd have bet big on you. I said as much beforehand, didn't I, Evanna?"

"Yes, father," Evanna said quietly. Her lips moved silently, but even though she muttered no sounds, I was able to make out what she said. "To the victor, the spoils."

"Come, Darren," Mr. Tiny said. "We must tend to your wounds. They're not immediately life-threatening, but you should have a doctor see them. Your friends in the stadium are almost done with their foes. They can take you to the hospital."

I nodded absentmindedly and trudged my way back into the stadium. I passed Vancha on my way in, but I wouldn't have been able to carry him in my state –and he was probably safer there anyways. The fighting stopped when I walked into the room.

"The Lord of the Vampaneze is dead," I announced. "For those who are on his side; I give you the chance to flee. If you are still here in fifteen minutes, we will slaughter you."

A few of the vampaneze's eyes narrowed. The choice I presented to them now was _very_ similar to the one they gave me two years ago. Most vampaneze only stayed active in the war because their doom was predicted if they did not obey their Lord, so they had no qualms with leaving. Nearly all the purple skinned creatures of the night cleared out immediately. The ones who remained were those who were, either close to Steve or too injured to move. Most of the vampets (the few that were still alive) remained. They wanted power. They were not noble beings of self-sacrifice, who stayed to stand up for their clan. And they disgusted me.

"Last chance!" I bellowed at them.

None moved.

"Harkat!" I shouted to the little person, who was eying the vampets warily.

"Yes… Darren?" he asked in reply.

"Get rid of that mess for me."

* * *

I was in the hospital. I had told the nurses that I had been mugged and stabbed, explaining my injuries. They had passed my wounds off as (most likely) the work of the same group that killed Tommy Jones. They didn't know how right they were…

My wounds had been stitched up –all of my organs were thankfully intact. I was sipping on a cup of tea when I remembered –the purge! I had passed out as soon as the nurses had left the room, so I had a full day's rest after the fight. I looked down at myself. I didn't _feel _any different. Maybe that was because I was recovering from life-threatening wounds. At least I didn't feel like my head was going to explode. But that could be because it was silent in the room. And the only light in the room came from the buttons on my headboard. I twisted my head to the side, slowly so I wouldn't put pressure on my stitches, and glanced at the small panic button.

By the Black Blood of Hanon Oan, that was bright! I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head back around. I was definitely a full vampire. Mr. Crepsley had explained that my eyes would be sensitive for my first few decades as a full vampire, but I hadn't thought it would be this bad!

I briefly wondered who had survived the battle. I wondered if Debbie was still alive. Sure she was tough, but she was only human…

My thoughts were interrupted by the hospital door swinging open. Harkat, Vancha, and Debbie, filed in the room. _How dare they interrupt my thoughts? _a voice whispered in the back of my head. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the voice, but a small echo of it still remained.

"Darren!… You're awake!" Harkat exclaimed.

"Not so loud," I said, flinching. "My ears are still sensitive."

"So you're still in the purge?" Vancha boomed, ignoring my demands.

"No," I winced, rubbing my ears. "But I'm not used to my ears being so sensitive yet."

"Well," he said, just as loudly as before. "The best way to get over that is to force yourself to endure large quantities of sight, smell, and sound. Trust me," he winked, "I know from personal experience."

My anger sparked up a notch. I told him to _be quiet. _Why was he ignoring me? _Because, _a quiet voice argued back, _He is trying to _help _you. He knows more about this than you do. Listen to him until you find your bearings again. _

"So," Debbie whispered, being kind. "You're a full vampire now?"

"Yeah," I said. "I guess so. No more running around during the day for me…"

"How are… your wounds doing?" Harkat asked, switching the topic.

"To be frank with you, I'm a little afraid of what I'll find," I joked.

"Let's see those stitches," Vancha smirked.

He pulled down my bed sheet and began unraveling my bandages, which were crusted with dried blood, to reveal… completely healed wounds.

"Huh," I said, shocked. "Must be because of the purge…"

"That is a bit strange," Vancha commented thoughtfully. "But maybe your wounds just weren't as bad as you thought."

"Maybe…"

I was doubtful that either explanation was right. I was the Lord of the Shadows now. With that title came special abilities. Like speaking to dragons… It made sense in a way. If people were going to try and kill me, I'd have to have some form of defense.

"I guess that means you're free to go," Vancha said cheerfully. "We can take those stitches out at the Cirque."

I stood up and stretched, feeling some energy returning to my muscles. I was further relieved when I felt only a vague soreness in my muscles. We returned to the Cirque, where Truska removed my stitches. I was still a little tired from my ordeal, and I assumed that most of my energy had been spent repairing my damaged muscles, so I decided to turn in early. I retired to my hammock, escaping the depressed air around camp. Before I fell asleep, I counted the number of people who I had lost in the past few days.

Alexander Ribs… Gertha Teeth… Shancus… Mr. Tall... Countless more Cirque memebers… _Steve_…

I fell into an uneasy sleep, reliving the death of each person in my mind until…

_I was soaring, high in a red night sky, just below the clouds. Below me, chaos reigned. I watched happily as a vivid green dragon set another building alight. Glass shattered and metal buckled as heat worked its way through the building. Screams could be heard from the top floors, where the fire had not yet reached. Several humans ran from the building, only to be impaled by flying debris. There was laughter from below me. I glanced down at a dragon, who was coloring was like dried blood. He saw my glance and flashed a toothless smile, baring sharp gums at me. It took me a moment to realize that I was laughing too. As if the demented scene below me amused me somehow…_

* * *

**Dun dun dun! *dramatic music commences***

**Well guys, there's my **_**very**_** short introduction. But don't worry! As the story progresses, the chapters should become significantly longer. Unlike my other stories, this one is dark -unless you have a sadistic sense of humor… Hope you liked it! **


	2. It Cannot be Seen

**Warning: Somewhat violent chapter ahead. May be pleasant to certain viewers... in a way… (;**

**Thanks to: The Vampire Avatar, Darth Vyper, the a person, timeandcirque, BeautifulNoMatterWhat, and Kberry for reviewing last chapter :D**

* * *

Chapter Two:

"It Cannot be Seen"

"DARREN! DARREN! WAKE UP!" a voice said, shoving my shoulder roughly.

I shot up in my hammock and rubbed my eyes. Debbie Hemlock was standing over me, looking worried and slightly scared.

"Was I screaming again?" I asked with a yawn.

"No… you were laughing," she said nervously, still staring at me. "I thought you were going insane…"

That woke me up. I got out of my hammock and stretched. Somehow I knew it was still night time… but I wasn't sure of the exact time…

"I had come to see if you were hungry –You were asleep for a few hours, and I know that hospital food couldn't have been any good," she said, giving me a _very _forced-looking smile.

I nodded and followed her out of the tent. Something was up with Debbie, and I was going to find out. We ate breakfast in silence, until Evra joined us.

"I just met with a few of the older cirque members, to discuss who should run it now, since Hibernus died…"

"Did you decide on someone," I inquired curiously.

"Well, we couldn't decide on just one person, so we divided it up between some of the oldest members," said Evra. "Truska, Hans, Cormac, and I are now the unofficial owners of the Cirque."

"It'll be weird…" I commented. "The Cirque without Mr. Tall –I can't imagine it."

"Neither can I," Evra admitted, "but we'll pull it together somehow."

"I guess…"

He left, sensing my solemn mood. I noticed Debbie had left too. Strange… I'd have to confront her after I made a quick trip to Truska's van. I left my half eaten meal and walked across the campgrounds to Truska's tent. Hoping that she was still awake, I knocked on the door.

"Darren?" said Truska as she opened the door. "Do they need me in Hibernus'–"

"No," I interrupted. "I came to see if you had any clothes for me. The ones I have now are a little tight…"

"Oh yes," she said in her strange accent. "I think I have just the thing."

I followed her into her van, glancing around. There were strange novelties around the room, some which looked like they were taken from a shipwreck –they were water worn and weathered with age. She led me to the back where she sat me on a stool.

"When you went through you first purge early, I decided to make these for you," she explained. "I know much of the vampire ways. So when you reached your first purge, I knew the second had to follow soon. I was going to make you an outfit like your mentors… But something made my mind change tracks. "

She told me to strip down and close my eyes. I did as she said and tried not to peek as she dressed me. She gave my hair a quick trim, evening it out a bit.

"You can look now," she said softly.

I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror. My new outfit seemed to be a sort of battle suit. It felt heavy –not uncomfortably heavy– and looked tough. It was a gleaming black, with red accents here and there. I tried to identify the material it was made of, but I couldn't tell. What caught my eye was the blood red cape flowing behind me. It reminded me of Mr. Crepsley's cloak in color and style, but the material was thicker, more durable.

"Wow," I said, admiring my changed appearance. "This is even better than the pirate costume. I don't know what to say…"

"You are welcome," Truska said, smiling. "Something told me you would need something sturdy. You look so grown up now."

"Tell me about it," I replied, stepping closer to the mirror.

I took in the changes to my features. I was tall, nearly as tall as Mr. Crepsley had been. My jaw and face had hardened, and rough stubble was growing on my chin. But what surprised me the most were my eyes. They didn't look empty, like the last time I visited Truska, but they looked aged. Like I had lived a hundred years in the past two days.

"Your eyes remind me of man I once met," Truska stated. "He too lived through war. Many of them. His name was Larten. Larten Crepsley."

I looked at her and an understanding passed between us. _We'll have to spare her when the world burns… _said the growing voice in the back of my head. I shook my head and smiled.

"Thank you Truska," I said. "But I've got to go see Debbie."

"Darren…"

"Yes?"

"Your eyes… they…" Truska said softly.

"They what?" I asked.

"Nothing…"

* * *

Debbie and Alice were staying in Gertha Teeth's old van so that they could help with the injured people from the fight. I walked silently through the camp, enjoying the feeling of new strength that was running through my muscles. I reached their van and knocked quietly. Alice answered the door, watching me wearily.

"Hello Darren. Did you need something?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Can I talk to Debbie for a bit? I need to ask her something…"

"Um…" Alice said nervously. "Hold on a second. She might not be dressed."

"Alright," I said.

Something was definitely up.

"Hey Darren," Debbie said, walking down the stairs of the van. "Alice said you needed somethi–"

She froze at the last step, her eyes widening, sentence trailing. Then she immediately changed her expression into a smile. My eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," I said suspiciously. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Alright," she said shakily.

* * *

We sat down on the couch that was in my tent. I noticed that Debbie was deliberately not touching me.

"So," I began, startling her. "The other night you said that when I was done with the purge… that I would be a man… and that –well um, you wouldn't feel so weird –about being with me."

"That wasn't a question," she pointed out. "But yeah… I did say that."

"Why do I feel like you don't mean that anymore?"

She sighed.

"I just –I just don't know anymore, Darren. I feel like we're too different… like everything has changed."

"That's not everything," I said, feeling anger and loneliness grow in the pit of my stomach. "This morning and just a few minutes ago –outside the van– you looked at me funny. You seemed _scared_…"

She looked nervous, like she hadn't expected me to bring that up.

"Well, to be honest, you _do_ scare me sometimes. The other day, I really thought you were going to kill Darius… You looked so –so... frightening. I really thought you were going to kill him, Darren. And I won't pretend I'm okay with that."

"You were fine later on, at my –at Annie's house," I said, noticing that she wasn't looking at me still. "There's something else... Something you're not telling me…"

"Well," she said, turning to meet my gaze. "This morning when I woke you up, your eyes were red. And in front of the van too. It's really unnerving Darren. And I don't even want to think of what it could possibly mean..."

"My eyes turned red?" I asked casually, as if we were discussing the weather. "You think I'm scary because my _eyes turned red? _You won't date me because my _eyes turned red? _Do you think I can help it? It's not my bloody fault they do that!"

My voice had risen as our conversation grew, and Debbie shrunk back with fear. I could see my reflection in her dilated pupils. My eyes were glowing with a deep crimson, pupils almost non-existent. I was grinning now. My smile seemed almost too sharp, glinting in the weak light of the tent.

"Darren you're scaring me," Debbie said with wide, petrified eyes. "Listen… I can't do this anymore.. I've got to go."

"No. _You_ listen," I growled. "I've been waiting for you. Waiting so long. You wouldn't date be because of my appearance two years ago, and you won't date me for my appearance now? And better yet, for my _eye_ color?"

And then she hit me. The force from her slap sent my head reeling to the side.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Darren," she said softly, tears streaming down her face. "But you're not the Darren I met fifteen years ago. I can't see you anymore…"

She tried to leave, but I moved in front of the door, stopping her. She tried to push me away, but a human female's strength is nowhere near the range of a full grown vampire's.

"Darren… Move.. Please move," she pleaded. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I chuckled.

She looked at me with tear filled eyes and seemed to make a decision. She opened her mouth wide, with the intention of screaming. I covered her mouth with a hand, successfully muffling her scream.

"Shh.." I said in a mock whisper. "You'll wake the neighbors."

She bit down on my hand. I hissed and threw her to the floor. I looked at my injured hand. Only a small trickle of blood came out. I licked the wound, testing out one of my new abilities. I smiled when it healed and turned back to Debbie. She was holding a knife in her hand.

"Are you going to stab me, Debbie?" I asked.

"Only if you don't let me leave."

"Ya know," I said thoughtfully. "The warrior woman thing was kinda cute to begin with, but now you're taking it way to seriously."

"Darren. Let me out."

"No," I said bluntly. "I wasn't finished talking to you. _I _decide when you leave."

She made a move to scream again. I stopped her this time by holding her jaw closed, so she couldn't bite me. But I had forgotten about the knife. But I definitely remembered it when I felt it go deep into my arm. It hurt –a lot– but not nearly as much as getting an arrow in your chest. Mostly it just pissed me off.

"Did you just stab me?" I whispered.

She was struggling against my grasp on her face. My grip had tightened when the knife hit me (out of shock) and my nails broke through her skin. I froze when I saw the blood running down my hand. Debbie stopped struggling and looked at me. Her expression became horrified when she saw what had stopped me. I removed my hand (the one without a knife in its arm) and licked the liquid off of my fingers. It tasted wonderful. Warm and so full of fear…

"Darren… you can't do this… this isn't like you, Darren," Debbie protested.

"You just stabbed me," I pointed out, still focused on the blood on her face.

She whimpered and closed her eyes. I glanced at her beautiful face, and for once didn't feel love. Anger and resentment poured out of me. One of the few people I had left had turned on me. Hurt me. And I couldn't stand to look at her anymore.

"Get out of here before I kill you," I said, shoving her away. "If I find out you told anybody about this…"

I left my sentence hanging. She began to leave the room, but I remembered something important.

"Wait."

She turned around, looking hopeful. I grabbed her face and licked her wounds, healing them.

"Get out."

I paced around my tent, muttering angrily. The knife, still imbedded in my skin, was keeping me from bleeding. When I pulled it out, a torrent of blood was sure to come with it. The wound was deep, nearly nicking my bone, and wouldn't heal easily. I didn't want to ask for help; that would bring up too many questions.

Instead, I pulled out a first aid kit from my bag and managed to take out the equipment for stitching. I stuck a cloth in my mouth and braced myself for the pain I was about to experience. I pulled the blade out and screamed as quietly as I could into the folded cloth. I acted fast and put some gauze, covered in peroxide, over the wound. I screamed louder as the cleansing fluid burned into my wound. After a minute I removed the cloth and replaced it with a new one. I repeated this action –applying pressure onto the wound as well– until I noticed that the bleeding had stemmed into a lesser flow. I used a pre-threaded needle to stitch the gash.

I didn't have much experience in the medical area, but I knew my stitch work left a lot to be desired. I would now have a wide, jagged scar along my upper arm. I rubbed a bit of saliva on the wound and watched it heal a bit.

After a minute I grew bored and went to relax in my hammock. But when I sat on it, a loud crinkle caught my attention. I stood back up and reached under my blanket. I pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope.

Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to open it. A short message was written on it, printed on a piece of elegant parchment.

* * *

_Ever feel like visiting an old friend?_

_-Des_

* * *

Underneath the message an address was written. Along with a name.

Alan Morris.

**Poor Darren. Every time he finally seems to find love, he loses it. So… can anyone guess what lay at Alan's?**


	3. Cannot be Felt

**Hmm. So I was thinking. Instead of doing a sequel to this story, should I do what would happen if Steve became the Lord of the Shadows? Tell me what you think in the comment section. **

**Sequel or Steve?**

**the a person, lucy12345, and The Vampire Avatar are officially amazing. Thanks for reviewing!**

* * *

Chapter Three:

"Cannot be Felt"

_I was sitting in the dome that was formerly known as the Hall of Princes. Outside of the dome, a battle raged on. Countless attempts to get inside the infamous Hall of Shadows had been made over the years. None of which were successful. Bombs, guns, fire… the strange hall had defied them all. Inside the room lay a key. But this key did not open a door… I reached down for said key and picked it up. I raised the key and slashed it in a downwards motion. A brief tear appeared in the air. Through it, I could see a small city, nestled peacefully in the night. But it would not be peaceful for long…_

"Darren... Can you get… up please." said Harkat loudly, ending my dream. "I need you… to help out… with chores…"

I yawned and stretched in my hammock, feeling the flash of anger that showed up when Harkat woke me leave. . _Chores? Why on earth should I do_ chores_? _said the ever present voice as I stood up.

"Shut it," I said to the voice.

"What was… that?" Harkat asked.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just talking to myself."

"Okay well... We've been trying to… fix up camp, but… we need help with… the heavier stuff," Harkat explains. "And then… I think Vancha wants to… see you."

"For what?" I asked curiously.

"Well… Since you're a full vampire… now, he'll have to teach you how to… use your new abilities."

"Oh yeah. I forgot! Now I can flit and stuff!"

"Well… not yet," he smirked. "You've still got a lot… to learn."

* * *

I helped the Cirque members (that weren't injured) clear away the burnt debris and fix the vans that weren't completely ruined. I received many compliments about my new attire and age. It was still early in the night, so most of the Cirque was awake. Urcha and Lilia didn't recognize me at first, but when they realized I was their 'Uncle Darren,' they became excited and took turns hiding under my cape. They were disappointed when I told them I had to go find Vancha.

Vancha was sitting on a fallen log, in the forest near the stadium, chewing on his toenails. He seemed impressed when he saw me approaching him.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

"I don't know… I just did."

"Well I guess you pass your first test then," he smirked.

"First test?"

"One of many."

* * *

Vancha decided that the easiest thing for us to start off with would be making a mind connection. He said it didn't take long to learn, and if we had a mind connection, we could always find each other. It was similar to controlling a spider –you used the same part of your brain– but a lot more confusing. Every person's brain was different. To connect with someone else you had to be close to them. Connecting my mind with Vancha's was a bit like fusing our brains together, and then ripping them apart. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant either. He said that flitting was a more difficult subject to learn, and that I should only attempt it after I fed.

"So," said Vancha. "Should we meet here again tomorrow?"

"Well… I have some business to take care of, and I might not be back for a week or two..."

"What business?"

"I have to discuss something with an old friend.

* * *

"Hey Evra," I said, walking into the Von's partially charred van.

"Hey Darren," he said kindly. "What's the visit for?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow some money from the Cirque's vault."

"Sure," he replied. "What do you need it for?"

"I'm going on a trip for a few days and I need money for bus fares."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"To visit an old friend."

* * *

I was packing my bags and tucking a few weapons in my sleeve when Harkat walked in my tent.

"Hey Darren…" he said. "Did you know… that Debbie left? This afternoon… she packed up her… bags and took a bus… out of camp…"

"Did she now?" I said casually. "Did she say why she left?"

"She said that… she needed to… get away from vampire… life for a while."

"Hmm..." was my intelligent reply.

When I was done with Alan I needed to track her down. I _told _her to keep a low profile…

"I heard you're… going on a trip."

"Yeah," I said. "I've got something I need to do."

"Do you want… me to come with… you? Or do you… want me to… stay?"

"It would probably be better if you stayed," I said bluntly. "I'm going out into the human world, and you would draw too much attention. We're still wanted criminals…"

"I suppose your right…" he said, looking thoughtful. "Vancha said… when you get back… that we're going back to… Vampire Mountain. We… need to tell… everyone that Steve… is dead."

"Yeah..." I mumbled.

"And Vancha wants to… inform the Princes… of the new threat…"

"What threat?"

"Remember the man… Mr. Tall told us about? The… Lord of the Shadows? He… was supposed to have… risen the night of… the fight."

"Oh…_ that _theat."

"Well… I'll let you pack…" he said, heading out of the room. "See you in… a few weeks."

* * *

I was on a bus, on my way to the town listed on the letter. It was late evening –the sun had just gone down. Next to me sat a young boy, and his terrified mother. She kept shooting quick glances at my strange attire and scarred face.

"Excuse me mister," the young boy said, tugging on my sleeve. "Do you work at the circus?"

"I sure do," I said, smiling at the boy. "I used to do an act with a performing spider…"

"Really?" he asked, looking at me with wide eyes. "Can you show me?"

"Now, Henry," the mother said politely. "Let's leave the nice circus man alone."

"Oh it's fine," I said. "Look there's a spider now. Let's see if I've still got my old skills."

The woman stared at me like I was crazy, and stared warily at the medium sized spider crawling across the seat in front of us. I took my small tin whistle (the one I hadn't broke) out of my bag and played a tune on it. I held out my other hand and let the spider jump onto it. The boy looked amazed and the woman seemed to be lost for words. I made the spider spin thin webs between my fingers and do flips across my palm. After a minute I let the spider go and quit playing my whistle. The boy clapped.

"That was amazing!" he exclaimed. "How'd you do that?"

"Magic whistle," I explained.

"That was –that was incredible," a man said from behind me (the sound of the whistle must have caught his attention.) "I've never seen such a thing!"

"Um –thank you," I said.

"Can I get a picture of you?" he asked, pulling out his camera.

"No! No pic–"I began to protest.

But it was too late. He had pressed the button as soon as I said no. I nearly screamed at the flash's brightness, but managed not to. I did however tuck my face into my hands, trying to rid my eyes of the green after-image the flash made.

"Oh I'm sorry," the man apologized quickly. "I guess that was a little bright. Here I'll just delete that picture for yo–"

I picked my head up quickly. Since I was a full vampire I would no longer show up on film. And that man had just taken a picture of me…

"You're not in the picture," he said, throwing me a quick glance.

He stopped when he saw my face. In his eyes I saw my pissed off expression and red eyes. Instead of mauling him on the bus, I turned around in my seat and gripped the armrest on my chair. I felt my nails go through the cheap plastic and into the metal.

"Sir?" the boy named Henry said meekly. "Are you all right?"

I turned and looked at him, effectively shutting the little brat up… The mom was pale faced, and looked ready to scream. I just turned back around. The man behind me got off on the next stop, and I followed him. I waited for the bus to disappear to breathe into his face. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. I threw him over my shoulder and carried him through dark alleys until I reached an abandoned building.

I tied him with the bundle of rope I had in my bag and waited. He woke up a while later and screamed.

"Where am I?" he yelled into the darkness.

I turned on my portable lantern so he could see. He glanced at me groggily for a second before speaking.

"You're that guy from the bus," he whispered. "The one that I took the picture of."

"Very good," I said acerbically.

"Why am I tied up?"

"I'll give you a hint: I'm hungry."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he said, sounding muddled.

"What else do you remember from on the bus?"

"Well… You made a spider do these tricks and then…" he trailed off, eyes widening. "You didn't show up on camera.. And your eyes. They changed colors."

"And what do you think that means?"

"I don't know… Are you a demon?"

I laughed.

"Some would call me that, but no, I'm not a demon. I'm a vampire. And I don't enjoy it when humans take pictures of me. It could lead to my exposure…"

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said, scared stiff. "I didn't know. Next time I'll listen, I promise."

"Next time?" I crooned. "What makes you think I'm letting you go?"

"Please," he whimpered. "I'll give you everything I have! Just let me go. I won't say a word."

"Oh," I said thoughtfully, pretending to consider his proposal. "_Everything?_"

"Yes," he said, looking hopeful. "You can have my money and my car. I live in an apartment, but you can take my belongings if you'd like."

"But you see," I chimed. "I don't need any of those things. There is one thing you have that I want?"

"What is it?" he asked hopefully.

"Blood."

* * *

I had never drunk from a conscious human, (besides Alice) and I must say, the experience was _wonderful_. I didn't kill him when I drank. I would never do that. It was too much like a vampaneze. However, I did drink more than I normally did. I needed more blood to survive now that I was a full vampire. I sealed the wound on his upper arm when I was done and looked at him. A pale sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead and his pupils were dilated with terror.

"Now," I said, drumming my nails on his skin, making small cuts. "What to do with you…"

"Please let me go," he pleaded softly. "I don't want to die."

"You are out of luck there," I pointed out. "We all die someday."

He broke into tears at that point. It was a very unbecoming look for a grown man. I slapped him hard, and heard his jaw crack.

"Tears will gain no sympathy with me," I droned. "My people look down upon those who cannot face death with a smile."

"Well then, your people are insane!" he shouted, spitting out broken teeth.

I growled then, using the deep voice that only a vampire could use. Something in my mind seemed to click at that point. I pulled a knife from my sleeve and examined it. It was a bit dull, but it would work. The man tried to scoot away when he saw the wicked blade in my hand.

"You like it?" I asked with a smile. "Normally it's not so shiny though… Blood tends to make it seem a tad dull…"

"Oh god no… Please…"

"What? No 'I have children and a wife?'" I smirked.

"No… I haven't even finished college yet..."

"Hmm," I said, dragging the blade across his face. "You are not putting up a very good argument for yourself."

I dragged the line beneath his nose, creating a blood-stache. He sputtered on the blood in his mouth and then choked as he inhaled it. I laughed, but felt a pang somewhere inside me. I pushed down the little voice telling me that this was wrong, that this wasn't me, and brought the knife back up. I swung the knife down and sliced open his torso. He convulsed and shuddered as the large wound bled. He looked down at his body in disbelief. A shaky hand reached up and touched the cut. The hand came away dyed a dark red, almost black.

"What?" he tried to say, but choked.

A sharp grin came to my face. I watched him grope at the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"You –you're a monster," he managed to sputter out.

My smile didn't falter.

* * *

I had left his body in the building. By the time they found him I would be long gone. I knew that I should feel guilty, but I didn't. I felt nothing for the unnamed man I had just killed.

It was now past midnight, and I was riding on another bus. It was practically empty, except for a few slumbering humans. I took a seat away from everyone else and pretended to sleep…

Four hours later I arrived in a city. There were still a few hours left till dawn, so I rented a hotel room and napped, after I set the alarm clock to wake me at eight. I wasn't excited about having to run around in the daytime, but I would survive.

A few hours later, the monotonic sound of the alarm clock startled me out of my slumber. I rubbed my eyes groggily and tried to wake myself fully. Then I pulled on my cloak and headed to the ground floor of the hotel. There was an area on that floor that served breakfast. I grabbed a glass of orange juice and a plate of bacon from the small buffet, and ignored the stares I received as I sat alone at a table.

I ate my breakfast quickly and went to the small reception area, where they sold a handful of things. I scanned the aisles for a bottle of sunscreen. A few small travel sized bottles lingered on a shelf. I grabbed two of them and a pair of sunglasses from the small rack I had passed in my search for sunscreen. I paid for both items and returned to my room. When I entered my room, I lathered a generous amount of the sunscreen on my face and hands, which were the only parts of me that would be exposed to the sun. I slipped the sunglasses on and left the hotel.

I took a taxi to the address on my letter and was surprised when it brought me to a tall, corporate looking building. I double checked the letter to see if this was the right place, and sure enough, the addresses matched. I walked through the automatic doors and into a glossy front office. A woman was sitting at a desk, on the phone with someone. She smiled when I walked up to her and held up a finger, indicating that she'd be with me in a minute. After a few minutes, she hung up the phone and turned her attention to me.

"Welcome to Donsmed's Genetic Industries. What brings you here today?" the woman said.

"I'm here to see Alan Morris," I said.

"Do you have an appointment with Dr. Morris?" she asked.

"No, but if you give him my name, I'm sure he'll want to see me."

"Well sir," she said with a smile. "Dr. Morris is a very busy man, and unless you have previous arrangements to meet him–"

"Well, ma'am," I said with gritted teeth. "If it isn't too much of a problem, can you tell Alan that his old friend Darren is here?"

"I don't see any harm…" she said, considering my idea. "What is your surname?"

"Shan."

* * *

The woman agreed to send the message to Alan, who immediately asked to see me. The woman politely told me which floor and room he was in. An elevator took me to the fourth floor, and I winced when I saw cameras in it. I crossed my fingers and hoped that the cameras weren't continuously monitored.

I scanned the numbers on the door, looking for number 303. It took me a few minutes to find the right room, but I found it near the end of the hallway. Under the room number, carved into a plaque, were the words:

**Doctor Alan Morris**

**Geneticist **

I knocked on the door, which was answered seconds later.

"Come in!"

I hesitantly walked into the room. Alan was sitting at a desk, examining something with an impressive looking computer. He stood up when he saw me and slowly walked towards me.

"Darren?" he said, amazed. "Is it really you?"

"In the flesh," I replied, looking at my friend for the first time in years.

He was wearing a casual outfit, but I could see his white lab coat hanging on his desk chair. He wore glasses, but they didn't seemed prescribed (Probably for working in the lab). His red hair was combed neatly, but signs of it receding into his scalp were apparent. His wide eyes were taking my appearance in; the scars, strange clothing, and youthful appearance.

"Tommy said that he saw you –that you were alive, but I didn't believe him until now," Alan admitted. "He said that you suffered from a disease that made you age slow, but you don't look fifteen to me."

"I went through a growth spurt," I said with a smirk.

"But you _do_ look young," he commented. "If I could examine whatever it is in your DNA that's making you age slow, I could figure out a cure. Or even how to use it to make other people look young…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

"Why don't you come down to my lab with me," he said suddenly. "I can show you some of my work, and take a look at you."

I meant to say, 'No thanks,' but, "Sure, I'd love to," came out instead.

* * *

"This is the cloning lab," Alan said, gesturing to the room around him. "I work here, mainly on animal cloning."

"What kind of animals?" I asked, intrigued.

"Right now, were working on something top secret," he said, leaning into whisper to me.

"We're working on making _dragons_."

* * *

**Well, there ya go! I think that's my first kinda cliff hanger. Hope you liked it!**


	4. Cannot be Heard

**Bonjour mon amies! Voici chapitre quatre! **

Chapter Four:

"Cannot be Heard"

"_Dragons?"_ I repeated.

"Yes, dragons," Alan replied seriously. "You can come see the few we have now, but I ask you as a friend, _not _to tell anyone about this."

"Of course not," I said with a grin.

"Alright, follow me," he said, leading me down a white corridor. "We keep them in special cages. Ones that they can't melt."

"So they can breathe fire," I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Well…" he said, searching for words. "The few successful clones have, but not the failures."

"Failures?"

"You'll see in a moment."

* * *

As we approached a set of reinforced steel cages, I felt a tingle of excitement run through me. Alan brought me to the smallest cage there. Inside of it lay a malformed, scaly creature. One of its eyes was too far down its face. His jaw was twisted to the side, making it incapable of motion. His right wing was permanently attached to the side of his emaciated body.

"This is Claudus," Alan announced, gesturing to the small dragon. "He is only five days old. He won't eat though. Not even predigested food. If he doesn't show improvement, we will have to euthanize him."

"Hmm…" I said thoughtfully.

The dragon's head jerked up when it heard my voice. A strangled whimpering noise came out of its throat, as if he were trying to communicate. I squatted down closer to the small dragon. He whistled through his nostrils at me. I stuck my hand in the cage, barely hearing Alan's protest. Claudus scooted closer to my hand, still making the strange whistling noise. I reached a hand out and stroked the top of his scaly head.

"I don't believe this," Alan said squatting down next to me.

He stuck his hand in the cage, only to receive a vicious swipe to his hand. He jerked his hand back, hissing at the deep scrape right below his knuckles. The dragon glared at Alan with baleful eyes.

"Huh," Alan said, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the blood off his hand. "I've never seen a dragon react kindly to anybody. The older ones have learned not to attack but… Let's see how they act around you."

I simply followed him to the larger cages. A dragon with a green body, purple head, and orange tail inhabited the first cage. The second dragon was smaller, with a more slender body. This dragon had a vivid yellow coat, with a black face and tail. The next cage was the largest, and held a dark red dragon. Its face was a deep blood red, and its tail faded into dark claret. A fourth cage held a violet dragon, with a sky blue face and forest green tail. All four dragons glared at us as we walked into the room.

"The green dragon is Tempus," Alan whispered. "The yellow one is Ales and the purple one is Lienosus. The red one is our only full grown male. His name is Vermiculus. You can get closer if you'd like. They haven't attacked anyone in months."

I nodded and stepped closer to the biggest cage. The dragon, Vermiculus, seemed familiar somehow. I felt like I had seen him before, but I wasn't sure where. The dragon's deep, ice blue eyes glanced at me as I approached him. A hissing noise sounded then, bringing back vivid memories of what happened last time I had heard that sound –I was nearly roasted to death.

"STOP!" I shouted, just as the dragon opened its toothless maw.

The hissing noise stopped abruptly. All four dragons looked at me with surprise. Then it was my turn to be surprised, when the large, crimson dragon _spoke. _

"_Are you the one who walks with the shadows_," Vermiculus grumbled.

"Uh… I guess," I replied.

I don't know how I understood the dragon. I could hear a roaring grumble, but underneath that, words were hidden.

"_The one called Destiny told us about you,"_ said Ales. "_He said we would meet a man, who is not a man._"

"_And that the not-man would free us_," hissed Tempus.

"I guess I could try," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"Darren!" Alan shouted, running up to me. "Are you_ talking _to those dragons?"

Vermiculus growled, "_Should I incinerate this man, Shadow Lord?" _

"No, no," I said to the hissing dragon. "Alan is an old friend."

Alan paled, glancing quickly between me and the dragon.

"Let them out," I commanded Alan.

"Are you_ insane_?" Alan said with wide eyes. "Those dragons have_ killed_ people, Darren."

"I think they are perfectly harmless," I insisted, patting Vermiculus' snout.

"I am _not_ letting those monsters out," Alan said firmly. "And you can't get those cages open without my handprint."

"I wasn't _asking_ you to let them out," I said, glaring at the man. "I'm _telling_ you to let them out."

"And if I don't?" he said, hiding his fear.

"I will kill you," I said firmly, pulling my knife out.

Alan paled and stared at the knife.

"If you kill me," Alan said, "it will be all on tape."

"I don't show up on film," I replied.

"What?!" Alan said, gazing at the camera hanging above us. "That's impossible."

"Do you have a camera phone?"

"Um… Yeah," he replied.

"Try taking a picture of me," I suggested.

Alan reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He flipped it open and pressed a button on the side.

"You're not… you don't show up on the camera…" he said, astonished. "But _how_?"

I dashed forward and ripped the phone from his hand. I crushed the device, insuring that he wouldn't try calling for help.

"Because," I said slowly. "I am a vampire."

"That's i-im-impossible," he stuttered out.

"Deja-vu," I said, rolling my eyes. "Now let the dragons out."

"No," he said firmly.

Instead of replying, I drug my nails across his face. My sharp nails ripped through his skin, leaving angry red lines that began pouring out blood.

"Now," I said. "Let the dragons out before I get mad. I can heal you if you do."

"Heal me?" Alan asked, tears of pain and betrayal rolling down his cheeks. "Why did you hurt me, Darren? I thought we were friends."

"I thought we were too," I replied, picking his skin out from under my nails. "Now, are you going to let the dragons out or just stand there like an idiot?"

"If I let the dragons out, they'll kill us," Alan tried to convince me.

"Not unless I tell them to."

Alan sighed and walked over to the first cage. The dragons had gone silent during our conversation, presumably listening. But when he let Tempus out, their excitement became almost tangible. Tempus walked to where I was standing and lowered her head in a sort of bow. The other two females reacted in the same way, but Vermiculus simply let out a roar of triumph. I smiled. Alan gawked as the dragons surrounded me, whistling through their noses.

"What does that whistling mean?" I asked Alan, but Lienosus answered instead.

"_It is a sound of happiness_," she said, stretching her wings.

"Oh," I replied.

"Wait," Alan said incredulously. "You can _understand_ them?"

I had forgotten about Alan. He was standing behind me now, knees trembling. Blood covered his previously white shirt. He held a napkin to his face, but it was now drenched.

"Come here," I said, ignoring his question. "I need to heal those scratches."

He cautiously stepped forward. I grabbed his arm impatiently and spit in his face. Alan blinked at me, completely confused, as I rubbed the spit into the wound.

"Done," I said, examining the thin scars with a feeling of satisfaction.

With quivering fingers, Alan reached up to touch the scars on his cheek. His eyes widened as he felt the raised scars on his cheek.

"They healed," he said

"Oh really?" I said while rolling my eyes. "Back to business. What time do you get off work?"

"At five," he responded wearily.

"Good. So the sun will have set?"

"What are you afraid you'll burst into flame?" he said mockingly.

I blinked in surprise and laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked. "You said you were a vampire!"

"I just didn't expect that. I wasn't even thinking about the sun," I said honestly.

"You won't die if you go out in sunlight?" he replied.

"Not immediately, no, but four or five hours will kill me."

"So why'd you want to leave after sunset."

"So we can let the dragons out."

* * *

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Alan mumbled, following me out of the elevator.

The dragons couldn't exactly fit into the elevator, so they made a large hole in the ceiling. Screams could be heard from above as they made their way out. I had ordered them to destroy all evidence of their existence. Vermiculus said that the only way to do that would be to burn down the building. I agreed, much to Alan's horror. We left the building right before the dragons unleashed a torrent of fire onto the once proud office. When the blaze was large enough to ensure that the building would be destroyed, the dragons would leave for Vampire Mountain. I would meet them there in a few weeks, but until then, they had to keep a low profile.

Meanwhile, we were in Alan's car, trying to get away from the fire before debris could fall on us. Alan drove, since I had never had the chance to learn. We stopped at the hotel I was staying at. I forced Alan to get out with me so that he wouldn't drive away. I grabbed my belongings quickly and left the hotel.

"So," Alan said with a worried look on his face. "Are you going to be staying at my house?"

"I wasn't going to," I replied. "But now that you mention it, why not?"

Alan banged his head on his steering wheel and cursed himself.

I laughed.

* * *

We drove away from the city and headed to the suburbs. After pulling through a pair of wrought iron gates, we drove into a nice looking neighborhood. I memorized the route we took in case I needed to make a quick escape. Alan's house was a cozy looking two story.

As soon as we pulled into the driveway, a woman ran out of the house. She had bleached hair and an overwhelming amount of makeup plastered on her face. She pulled Alan into a tight embrace when he stepped out of the vehicle.

"Oh Alan," she cried into his shoulder. "I saw on the news –I thought you had _died_! Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Alan patted her back soothingly and muttered, "I would have called but my phone broke. I'm here now. Please don't cry. I hate to see you cry. Look. My friend Darren is in town."

She sniffed and looked up at me. Her eye makeup was running down her cheeks, giving her the appearance of a deformed raccoon. She immediately perked up and flashed me a bleached smile.

"You must be Darren," she said in a honey sweet voice. "My name is Cynthia. I'm sorry you had to see me this way, but I've been so worried… Why don't you come inside and we can have a cuppa?"

I gave her a sharp smile and nodded. Cynthia led me into the house, which was as modern on the inside as it was on the outside. A pair of children ran in screaming 'Dad!' when Alan walked into the house. They pulled up short when they saw me. There was a girl, who looked about thirteen and a boy who was about eight.

"Who's the circus freak?" the boy asked, gaping at me.

Alan smacked his forehead with his hand and watched me carefully.

"Hello," I said, bending down to face the child. "My name is Darren Shan."

The girl gasped for some reason and the boy just stared at me. I glanced sharply at the girl and saw that there were tears in her eyes.

"Why are you crying honey?" the girl's mother said, bending down to hug her child.

"N-nothing," she managed to stutter out. "I'm just going to go to my room."

"Ellie is weird," the boy said, as if that cleared up everything.

"She's just going through a stage," Cynthia said. "I'm sure she'll be fine. So how long are you staying, Darren?"

"Just for a couple of days."

"Alright," she said with a smile. "Here, I'll bring you to the guest room."

"Okay," I replied.

She led me up the stairs into a brightly decorated room. A light blue comforter dotted with white spots rested on a medium sized bed. Fluffy pink and blue pillows sat merrily on top of the blanket. Frilly paintings hung on the wall. An ugly pink rug rested under the bed, which matched the equally ugly wall paper.

"It's not much, but it will do," Cynthia said with mock distress. "You must be tired. You can rest up here until dinner is done."

"Alright," I replied, placing my bags on a cushiony white chair.

She left the room a few seconds later. I had just finished shutting the blinds and closing the curtains when a knock sounded at my door. I opened it to find Alan on the other side. He was shifting from foot to foot and seemed to be chewing over something in his mind.

"Spit it out," I said impatiently.

"Can you read minds or something?" Alan asked.

"Maybe," I lied. "And I can also hear everything that is said in this house. If you tell your family about me, I'll kill them."

"So you won't if I keep quiet?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see."

I fell into a light doze and woke up when I heard a _click_ near my ear.I woke to face a gun being pointed straight into my face.

* * *

Sooo... Anybody want a cliffhanger?


	5. Cannot Be Smelt

**Salut! Well, here's the long awaited, chapter five! I feel like the LOTS myself, leaving y'all with that cliffhanger like I did. If anyone, I blame The Vampire Avatar (; **

**BTW! I changed the rating on this because... of the violence in this and upcoming chapters. If you can't handle gore, I recommend you stop reading. **

**But enough of my useless babbling. Here's your chapter!**

* * *

_"Monsters are not born fully developed. They grow, they mature, they **become**."_

_–Lady Evanna_

* * *

Chapter 5:

"Cannot Be Smelt"

I blinked in surprise, looked away from the trembling arm holding the gun and stared into the cold gray eyes of Alice Burgess.

"Alice?" I said, bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you here," She said simply. "After Debbie ran away I got curious. So I decide to follow you to see what 'friend' you were visiting, but instead I have to watch you kill an innocent man. Then I debate whether I should let you know I'm here or not, but then you end up making some lizards burn down a building filled with hundreds of people."

"So what do you want?"

"I want answers, Darren Shan."

"You've worked with vampires for the past two years. You know you'll never get anything out of me."

"I can try," She replied with an indomitable look gleaming in her eyes.

She pounced forward and put the gun to my chest.

"So…" she began, pressing the muzzle of the gun deeper into my skin. "What did you do to Debbie?"

I almost started laughing. Of all the questions she could have asked, she had to ask about _Debbie_.

"Nothing…" I mumbled, latching '_yet_' onto the phrase inside my head.

"Then why did she leave?"

"Beats me. Didn't she say that she wanted to get away from vampire life for a while?"

"Quit lying," She said. "Something happened between you two and you know it!"

Just then the door opened. The opener meant to be quiet, but my sensitive hearing picked up the noise. A pair of brown eyes peeked through the door, staring directly into my own. An unintentional gasp escaped from her mouth, alerting Alice to her presence.

"W-why do you have a gun," Ellie said, wide eyed.

"Because Mr. Shan here is a very bad man," Alice said kindly to the frightened child.

"You mean because he killed Tara Williams?" she questioned softly.

I looked at the brown haired girl, who had now stepped inside the doorway. That was a part of my past that I thought I wouldn't have to revisit.

"I didn't kill Tara Williams," I said truthfully.

"Really?" she said hopefully.

"No he didn't," Alice commented. "But it wouldn't surprise me if he had. Did you know Tara?"

She nodded and said, "There was this big sister program I had joined a few years ago, that paired you with an older girl –sort of like a mentoring program. My mentor was Tara. She'd send me letters and sweets through the mail all the time, along with pictures. But one day Tara's parents sent me a letter saying that she had been killed… and that they caught the murderer, who was named Darren Shan. But then h-he escaped."

"If it makes you feel better, her real murderers are dead now," I replied to her annoying sob story.

"D-did you kill them?" she asked, looking scared again.

"Not personally," I yawned.

"But you _did_ kill that building full of people," Alice muttered, remembering her purpose for being here. "Ellie, you should go. Don't tell anyone that I'm here."

Ellie left the room immediately. I could hear the patter of her feet as she ran to her room. Taking advantage of Alice's momentary distraction, I ripped her gun from her hand and reversed our roles, pinning her against the wall.

"Who else knows you're here?" I asked, holding down her arms as she tried to escape my grasp.

"No one…" she claimed. "I didn't tell anyone I was leaving…"

I glanced down at my once ally. "Where did Debbie go?"

"I'll never tell you," she said defiantly.

"Tell me," I whispered, glaring at her.

I could hear her deep intake of air as she glanced at the room around us. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed her gaze. The room had visibly darkened, filling with shadows. They fought against each other like ravenous beasts. Vaguely, I recalled something similar happening in my dreams. I had assumed that the shadows were a play on the figure's name, or a tribute to the fact that the figure's identity remained uncertain, not an actual part of the person's makeup.

"It's you, isn't it?" she asked suddenly. "You're that one Mr. Tall was talking about. _You're _the Lord of the Shadows."

In response, I knocked her out. Instead of killing her on my bed, I threw her out the window –I didn't want to get blood on my sheets.. Several cracks broke through the silence as the ex-policewoman hit the ground.

A loud, familiar sound broke through the air a few minutes later –police sirens. I looked out the window, expecting them to pass the house, but the small brigade of cars stopped in front of Alan's house. I left the room, with the intentions of finding the culprit who had ratted me out. A hitched breathing sound was coming from behind the door a bit farther down the hall, so I decided to check the room. I tried the knob once –locked.

"I think he's outside my door," whispered the voice of a young girl.

"I think he is too," I said aloud.

A short squeal sounded, followed by the crackled voice associated with phone calls.

"_Ellie, Ellie! Are you alright? Stay on the line with me, no matter what happens._"

"He's at my door," she cried into the phone. "The police are here but…"

I interrupted her words by breaking down her door. She glanced at the splintered wood and dropped the phone in her hand. It hung by its cord, but didn't disconnect the call.

"What just happened, Ellie? Can you hear me?"

I picked up the phone.

"I can hear you."

"Who is this?" the voice of a woman said.

"Darren Shan," I replied.

She gasped. "Don't you dare harm that little girl! The police will have you locked away forever for what you did in that town two years ago."

"Ah," I smirked. "But in order to lock me away they'd have to catch me first."

After ending the call, I paid attention to the matter at hand. Ellie was slowly backing away from me. I took a step forward, followed by her taking a step back. We took a few more steps, moving in a macabre sort of dance, until a voice behind me stopped me in my tracks.

"FREEZE," shouted a man.

I froze.

"Turn around!"

I turned around, putting a smile on my face and my hands above my head.

"Hello, officer," I said politely to the round man. "How are you today?"

"Step away from the girl," he replied, ignoring my attempt at a chat.

"Or what?" I wondered aloud.

"I've been given permission to put bullets through you, so I'd watch my mouth if I were you."

I rolled my eyes, angering the overweight enforcer of the law.

"Show some respect!" he spluttered, chin wiggling. "You're gonna be with us a _long _time, so you might want to watch that attitude."

Using my vampire speed to full ability, I sat down on a chair that was backed into a dark corner of the room. Both officer and child spent a moment looking for me before the girl spotted me. The officer followed her terrified gaze and retrained his gun on me. I crossed my legs and chuckled.

In the mirror against the back wall, I could see my reflection. Even with my stronger night vision, I seemed clouded in darkness. A white grin and red eyes peeked out though the shadows, adding to the illusion the two humans would see. I could see the beads of sweat rolling down the policeman's forehead as he noted my strange appearance.

An idea suddenly sparked through my mind. Rather than waiting for an opening to escape, I repeated the steps in the getaway I had been in several years ago. I dashed to the bed and threw the young girl over my shoulder. In quick succession, I ran at the window, shattering the glass on impact. After absorbing the shock of the short fall, I ran as fast as I could, not even giving the waiting policemen a chance to raise their guns.

* * *

I couldn't flit yet, but I still ran faster than the world's best Olympic Champion. I cleared town and found a nice stretch of woods, about two hours after I had begun running. The girl had yelled my ear off, so I had knocked her out with my breath after the first few minutes. The effects of the gas seemed to be wearing though, because she was now lightly stirring.

Ducking into the trees, I headed for a place that I could seek shelter in the following day. I found what was less a small cave and more a pile of haphazardly placed rocks, which would be able to block out the brunt of the sunlight. Once I was under the canopy of stone, I threw Ellie onto the ground, stretching out my shoulders.

The sound of a feeble whimper caught my attention. I had thrown the child onto the ground rather roughly, causing her to wake up. I moved into the shadows, where the human could no longer see me.

Wuh –where am I?" she questioned into empty space.

Then she noticed that she was alone –or at least that's what she thought. In a panicked frenzy she stood up, glancing around the darkening forest apprehensively. I threw a rock and watched happily as she screamed. As Ellie began running, I grew excited -the anticipation of a chase thrilled me.

After giving her a few second's head-start, I raced into the woods behind her, moving as quietly as I could. She sprinted for a few minutes, but then her stamina ran down. Bending over, she clutched the top of her thighs, panting from exertion. I hid behind a fallen tree and waited for her to sit down.

When she had, I decided to mess with her mind. Using my deepest voice, I growled. She heard the growl and looked up, terror returning to her face. After stifling a laugh, I let out a howl. She screamed again, running for the nearest tree -probably assuming that the howl came from a wolf. Her expression calmed when she had climbed about fifteen feet off the ground. Getting another idea, I circled around the back of the tree, waiting for the right moment to strike.

I crouched and sprung onto the trunk of the tree, nearly causing the girl to fall off her branch out of fright. She turned to face me and appeared to be confused for a second, before she remembered who I was.

"Mr. Shan?" she said –it was rather dark outside, so she couldn't see me well.

"Yes?" I grinned.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking around the woodland.

"Hunting," I replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. The last thing I remember was…" she cut off, head snapping back towards me. "Wait…"

I climbed onto her branch, causing it to creak. Ellie scooted back farther, trying to get away from me, before a louder crunching noise sounded. As the sound echoed, she began screaming again –right in my ear.

The sound grated on my eardrums. That mouth of hers was really getting on my nerves…

The young human looked at the ground, as if she were debating whether or not jumping would be worth the consequences. It seemed as if her mind was made up, and she had decided to abandon her place in the tree.

She landed on the ground roughly. The fall would not have been bad, if she had landed properly. But Ellie obviously had no skill in landing, so when she fell, she fell hard.

I jumped down next to her and poked her arm, checking to see if she was still cognizant. She jerked her arm away from me and opened that damned mouth of hers. A shrill, high pitch scream emanated from her throat.

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP FOR ONE MINUTE" I yelled, getting fed up with the girl.

Her only response was to scream louder. Concentrating on not killing the child in that very moment, I dragged my dagger out. Her screams grew to a pitch I had not known existed when she saw the weapon resting in my hand.

Curiosity grew in me. Could a human scream without a tongue? If any could, it would surely be this child, the offspring of my once friend.

I reached into her gaping mouth and seized her tongue. Then I pulled it out as far as her muscles would allow, before introducing her to my knife.

Her reaction was instantaneous. She writhed and jerked as I sawed off her tongue. About halfway through, I lost my grip on the small muscle, since her face was slick with blood. She scooted backwards, tongue still hanging out of her mouth since she no longer had control of it.

A memory came to my mind as I examined the blood stained blade. Mr. Tiny had mentioned to me long ago that children's blood was a delicacy. Now I was motivated to try it. Ignoring the mix of blood and saliva on my knife, I reached over for Ellie. I made a small cut in her arm, noting that when she tried to scream she just choked –either on her own blood or from pain.

I took a small sip of her blood. It was... different. Something in the blood was altered, adding a pleasant taste to the overall flavor. I tried to get more blood to get a better taste, but only a small amount trickled out of the scratch. Losing patience, I bit her arm, causing her to shudder and jerk. I took a deep pull from the gash and swished the liquid around in my mouth like I had seen Mr. Crepsley do years ago. My mentor had said that evil blood was sweet, almost overbearingly so, but he had never told me what innocence tasted like.

After a few more mouthfuls of the strange blood, I left Ellie in the woods – either to perish or survive.

I still had one more stop to make before heading to Vampire Mountain; a new address that had come with the now familiar signature.

* * *

**As you may have noticed, Darren is starting to go through some… changes... hence the quote at the beginning. They didn't build Rome overnight, and The Lord of the Shadows didn't destroy the world overday.**

** Anyways, I'll try to update this A.S.A.P.**


	6. It Lies Behind Stars and Under Hills

**Hey guys! I finally got a chance to update! I hope to update soon, but it'll have to wait until I am finished with my finals. **

**Enjoy!**

"It lies behind stars and under hills_"_

_Five Years in the Future_

_A haggard and careworn group of trained, military men (who were hardly more than boys) sat in front of a small, battery powered television. A muffled, hushed voice rang out of the tiny speakers. A blurry, but comprehensible picture decorated the screen: a newscast. _

_"And from what we hear, The Shadow has swept over Europe and is now heading to the more eastern part of Russia. We strongly recommend our viewers to wear masks before attempting to leave their homes, as the residue from the destruction of that nuclear plant has begun reaching the states. Now, we have live feed from Europe. Viewer's discretion is advised..."_

_There was a moment of silence. A loud crack sounded from somewhere in the shack the crew was standing in, causing many of them to jump and pull their weapons from inside their thick coats. Two or three of the men let out shaky laughter after realizing that there was nothing there but their own fear. Their attention turned back to the TV, where a new voice was speaking._

_"As you can see, most of what's behind me is either charred or smashed, due to those giant lizards we've been seeing around these parts lately. So far, no survivors have surfaced from this town, but I'm sure they're around here. They probably just think the calls were fake, which is unsurprising since one of his tactics involves something similar._

_Now, Miss NBC has asked me to go into an in-depth description of what's been happening to the people around here. I recommend to anyone who doesn't want to know what is going to happen to them to turn off their televisions right now. Okay? Good. Now, if you remember what I said earlier, there has been a lot of burning going on. The ones who are burned to death are the lucky ones. The not so lucky ones are the poor saps who get caught by_ _him. Over here is a… man who I believe to have been one of his."_

_The men in the room gasped at the scene on the TV. A man's body lay on the ground, mutilated beyond belief. His skin, muscles, organs and bones were separated into four different piles. The pieces were kept perfectly intact, as if done by an expert. One smaller, meeker man retched at the sight of such a horror, but kept his eyes glued to the TV as the woman spoke again. _

_"This is a perfect example of what happens to those who try to run or hide from him. If he catches you, you better hope he's feeling slightly merciful. This isn't even one of the worst ones I've seen today, so be prepared. In case you were wondering, this isn't clay I'm standing on right now. It's dried blood–"_

_One of the men shut the television off. It was night time, which meant that they needed to remain as quiet as possible. They each took a swig from the canteen of melted snow they had filled earlier that day. Then they shared two family sized cans of green beans, before huddling together in one corner of the room, hoping to ward off some of the face numbing cold. _

_They shivered together, only sleeping when they passed out from exhaustion. The first half of the night passed with the normal twist and turns, but then a quiet knock came to the door. None of the men breathed, staring in horror at the sliver of red gleaming through the gap in the door hinge. The door creaked open to show a young man standing in the doorway. There was a collective sigh of relief that the room itself seemed to take part in. One of the men stood up and walked towards the teenager, but stopped when he saw the malicious grin that plastered the boy's face. _

_"Dobri vecher," the grinning teenager said, before cutting off the man's head._

_Present Tense _

I was walking down a nearly empty street. The only inhabitants of the forsaken alley were a sleeping homeless man, whose stench led me to believe he had been drinking, and I. Out of boredom, I walked up to the man and kicked him. He stirred, but didn't wake up. I kicked him again and he huffed loudly. I snorted and continued down the street.

Taking the crinkled message out of my pocket, I read the short message over again. There was no name, no indication of who or what I was going to see. So I was cautious, ready for practically anything. I had steeled myself for a possible battle during the two nights it took me to reach this city. My sword was at my hip, partially concealed from sight.

A building loomed in front of me, large and imposing –a hotel. I checked the address on the note again, though I already had it memorized. The addresses matched. Then I glanced at the small number on the end of the address. I had been wondering what the three numbers were for, but now I knew: a room number. I knew better than to barge into the lobby wearing a strange outfit and expect to be let anywhere near the room. Instead, I dug my nails into the brick walls and climbed, searching for an open room. On about the fourth floor, I came face to face with a man smoking on the balcony outside his room. He blinked at me, bewildered, glanced down at his cigarette, and then snuffed it in the ashtray.

I sprung from my place on the wall and landed on the balcony with a dull thud. The man barely had time to look up before I slammed my fist into the back of his head. He collapsed instantly, still breathing. I climbed into his room and saw that there was a woman sleeping on the medium sized bed in the room. Stepping inaudibly, I made my way to the door. 413 was the number to the room, which meant I had two floors to go.

I took an elevator to the sixth floor, smirking at the camera sitting in the upper right hand corner of the small room. Once I arrived at my floor, I stepped off and glanced at the sign on the wall, which indicated that room 612 would be on the right hand side of the corridor. I treaded softly down the corridor, keeping in mind that it was decently late into the evening. I passed room 608, then 610, and finally 612.

Obviously, whomever I was visiting didn't know I was coming, which wasn't surprising in the least. Instead of knocking on the door of the room I needed to visit, I backtracked and found myself in front of room 608. I knocked softly on the door. I could hear a scuffling and a groan as someone heaved themselves off a creaky mattress. Heavy footsteps stomped across the floor and the sound of a lock sliding open permeated the air. An obese, middle-aged man opened the door, peering at me.

"Who the hell do you think you are, coming to my door at this hour?" he questioned angrily. "I've got two kids sleeping in there, and I'll be damned if the likes of you wakes 'em up."

Instead of replying, I breathed knockout gas onto his face. He fell to the ground with a slump. I dashed into the room before any of the other members of the family noticed the man's unintended slumber. None of them had, but I breathed onto each person's face to be on the safe side, before dragging the heavy man onto his bed. Then, I opened the balcony door, wincing as it squealed loudly. After I was outside, I tried closing the sliding door slower, but a loud squeak still made its presence known.

I climbed onto the wall, noting that the brick was more crumbly farther up. Hoping that it would hold, I climbed a few windows over, until I reached the balcony of room 612. The balcony door was mercifully opened, almost as if it were destined to be so. A thought nagged at my mind, but curiosity won out and I stepped quietly into the room. A news channel was on and my eyes caught sight of a familiar head of short, black hair.

"The firemen have been trying to contain the fire," a highly botoxed man stated, staring directly at the screen, "but it has still managed to spread to the surrounding buildings. Casualties have not been confirmed, but the estimate is that around two-hundred people were in the genetics building at the time of the fire. The source of the fire is yet to be determined, but a possible lab fire may be the cause of this."

I walked over to the couch and sat next to Debbie. At first, she didn't notice me, because her eyes were glued to the screen, but when a commercial came, she hid her face in her hands. I shifted slightly closer to her and she felt the shift of weight in the couch. Her head snapped up.

Her mouth formed an 'o' of terror, but she didn't scream –she was too smart to bring anyone else into this. Tears that had been dancing on the brim of her eyes during the newscast spilled over, leaving two gleaming trails to contrast with her dark skin.

"Darren?" she said, as if she thought she had maybe fallen asleep.

I nodded and scooted closer to her. She scooted away. Pain and rejection stabbed through me like a serrated knife.

"Why are you here?" she asked, staring at me with glassy eyes.

"I wanted to see you." Not a total lie. I h_ad _wanted to see her; I just didn't know that I actually would.

"How did you find me? I've been switching hotels every night."

"I guess it was just destiny," I shrugged.

I scooted closer again and she didn't back away. "Destiny?" she repeated. "As in Mr. Tiny?"

I didn't reply. Instead, I leaned forward to steal a kiss. At first, she kissed me back, but then something seemed to change and she turned her head to the side.

"I –I can't," she whispered, tears spilling over again.

"Why not?" The knife twisted.

"I just –when I look at you, all I see is the crazy, red-eyed monster who wanted to kill a child."

I turned her face back towards mine. "Why can't you see _me_? The Darren you've known for fifteen years? Your childhood sweetheart?"

"Because that Darren is gone," she said loudly. The knife pushed deeper.

"I don't even know why I love you anymore," I said flatly. "You've never loved me back. I bet you've just been waiting for an excuse to kick me to the curb."

"What? No! Never!"

"Then prove me wrong," I replied. Her silence confirmed my statement, jerking the knife out, along with my heart. "No response? So tell me, why didn't you say something earlier? Why did you string me along like some unwanted puppy? Why did you make me think you loved me? Why did you rip my heart out, Debbie?"

"I –I" she stuttered incoherently.

I stood up. "_Why did you rip my heart out, Debbie_?" I repeated. I felt numb. Ice filled my stomach and nothing around me seemed real.

"I don't know," she said, looking down.

The icy numbness faded, replaced by a hot, burning feeling. I stared at the woman who had caused me so much grief for no reason. She even _confessed_ to not having a reason to hurt me. The voice was back, telling me to take an eye for an eye. A heart for a heart. I pulled Debbie to her feet. I gazed into her eyes and saw no remorse. I sighed and braced myself to do the hardest thing I had ever done –kill my childhood sweetheart.

I shoved my hand into the center of her chest, feeling her bone splinter and puncture my skin, but kept pushing forward, searching for her blasphemous heart. Her weight slugged against me as she lost the ability to hold herself up. The jagged bone tore deeper into my skin with the extra weight pushing down on it, causing my vision to spot. I felt around and found something that was giving off heat and was somewhat round. I jerked it out, and glanced at the item. It didn't look like the pictures of hearts I saw in school. After another moment of staring, I realized it was a lung and plunged my hand back into the cavity. Debbie was far past the point of unconsciousness when I pulled out a second organ –the heart.

I dropped her body to the floor and squeezed the organ in my hand. It was a lot tougher than I thought it would be. I stared at the organ for a moment, blinking hazily. Then, I realized that I was reaching the point of unconsciousness. I did not want to be found in the room with the body, so I headed back to the balcony, dropping the heart next to its owner. I climbed on to the concrete and began scaling the wall downwards. But then, my vision swam again and I lost my grip on the wall and began plummeting downwards, from about sixty feet off the ground!

**(; **

**Blood and Guts,**

**-Rebarbative **


End file.
